I can't shut him out
by Lord Diago
Summary: A letter from Dagail, Master-Mystic, to former Arch-Mage Hannibal Traven. Concerning the true nature of the Universe. Credit to Bethesda and H. P. Lovecraft for the setting and inspiration respectively!


Letter discovered by the new Arch-Mage in Hannibal Traven's night-stand. The letter was from Dagail , Master Mystic, to the then-Arch-Mage.

_Concerning the nature of the Magne-Ge._

Hannibal,

I have recently been informed of aspects of this reality hitherto unknown to our Guild. The stars are not what we thought, nor Magicka, nor the Aedra Magnus or the Daedra Meridia.

Recall the theory in 'Before the Ages of Man', that in the Chaos Times, Magnus was the Architect, and while it was Lorkhan's plan and the Aedra's sacrifice that created the mortal plane it was Magnus' schematics that were the foundation of Mundus. During the act of Creation, Mundus removed himself from the process to save his divinity and became the Sun. What remains of him on Mundus is felt as Magicka. His children, the Magne-Ge, escaped from Mundus into Aetherius, and that the stars are the holes they made.

Also recall what Irlav told us three years ago in the opening ceremony of the Ayleid Research Department at the Arcane University. The Ayleids believed in the elements of Earth, Water, Air and Light, contrary to the classical table of Earth, Water, Air and Fire. They believed that Fire was 'a weak and corrupt form of Light', to quote Irlav, and that 'the most sublime form of light was starlight'. Note that the Ayleid wells across Cyrodiil are not aligned with ley-lines on Mundus but with certain stars, and that they somehow 'collect' starlight. This leads me to suspect that the Ayleids knew, or at least partially understood, what I now know.

What is this great secret, you wonder? Why has Master-Wizard Dagail written a letter to the Arch-Mage to talk about old folktales and ancient history? Because the secret that has been revealed to me is so blasphemous and heretical that only the Arch-Mage will hear my story out.

Here it is, then.

I was going about my duties as a tutor in Masters Mysticism. My current student was a young Altmer named Alderbaren. He had approached me in the Chironasium as I was checking up on some enchanted Alchemy equipment the Alchemy Department had ordered and asked if he could take Mysticism lessons from me. Permitting him, we arranged to have three lessons a week, alternating, with Sundas free. A glance at his timetable showed me he was heavily thrown into Conjuration and Mysticism, and the first five minutes in our first lesson the next day showed me he must already have been an Expert, for he readily absorbed what I had taught him and displayed preternatural skill in the School.

He never spoke of himself during our first lessons, despite my best efforts at congeniality. I also hardly ever saw him outside our lessons. After the third week, however, he seemed to relax around me, and confided in me that he was the son of a Psijic on Summerset Isle. His Psijic father had him illegally, for Psijics are not permitted to have children. Eventually he was discovered and was forced to flee to Cyrodiil.

The Psijics have a habit of losing their best, do they not? Mannimarco, Galerion, Iachesis…To that list, I now add Alderbaren.

In Mysticism we learn that there are ways of seeing that are 'stronger' than mere vision. The unskilled sees an object, and tries to fit it into his way of thinking. The student of Mysticism can identify an object by its role. The master can see an object's 'truth', it's role and it's place, its position in relation to all things. Alderbaren became a master. Less than four months of training, where others would take years. And he looked at the stars.

One evening he was late for his lesson, so I went to Luther Broad's Boarding House, where he was staying. I had wondered why he had chosen to stay at a hotel when the accommodations at the University were free of charge and considerably more comfortable. When I went up to the room the proprietor told me was his, however, I knew. The magicka emanating from his room was a stench that could not be detected by the untrained and certainly not to the balding man below. I tried to open the door but it was locked. Using the little Alteration I knew I opened the door and looked in.

On the floor were designs in red ink of shapes like Dwemeri script and circles around single words. Standing next to the mound there was an Imperial boy in black clothes. I say Imperial because that was what he _looked_ like. Shoulder-length black hair which curled at the tips to form half-ringlets, an aquiline nose and thin lips. He seemed completely human, save for glowing cyan irises and an aura of magickal power that frightened me. Also at that point I noticed that around the mound were the clothes that Alderbaren was wearing when I last saw him. I think I fainted then.

When I came to, the boy was sitting in a chair, and I was on the bed. He got off the chair, very gracefully, and stood at the end of the bed. I think I managed to choke out a feeble 'Who are you?' I think it came out mangled, though he understood all the same. The boy smiled, and said,_ without moving his lips,_ that he was called Diago, and that he was a Sephira. I had in my head formed the question 'what is a Sephira?', and he answered me before I spoke.

'We are what you call the Magne-Ge. Your historians are correct in that the Ayleids sought to collect our Light with their wells, and that their destroyer, Pelinal, was a 'Star-Made Knight'. However, they are incorrect in that they call us the children of Magnus, whom they call the Sun, and that he is the source of all magic on the world you call Mundus. Magnus is merely another Sephira, no more powerful than the rest, and only appears greater in relation as he is closer to you on the plane called 'space', and your world is but one of many.'

'Your theologians are correct in that Meridia is not what she seems, but are grossly wrong in dividing divines into 'Aedra' and 'Daedra', 'Sithis' and 'Anuiel', 'Anu' and 'Padomay' and so on. The beings worshipped as such are Sephira under different guises, who only tolerate this nonsense out of sheer boredom. The lesser daedra are our playthings. Indeed, as are you mortals. Do not be alarmed'- he smiled more widely as he said, or projected, this -'we mean you no harm. Indeed, we have often aided mortals who approach in the correct way. Unlike this one,' he projected as he gestured to the pile of soot on the floor-'who, having stolen manuscripts from our old enemies the Psijics, tried to _summon _me here,'- he frowned at this, and his eyes glowed most menacingly- ' as if I were some…some…_dremora…_Although…' he looked at me thoughtfully, ' this does make for an interesting situation. I have never been to this particular world before, and seeing as I am already here, will amuse myself by imparting some of my knowledge to you.' And he did.

The Ayleids had tried to manipulate starlight, so the Sephira prodded Alessia in the direction of rebellion and sent down Pelinal Whitestrake to battle Meridia's Umaril. The dwemer had become a race concerned only with technology and not magic and were thus boring to the Sephira. So they were erased from existence. The Psijics had discovered the Sephira by way of Mysticism, and after the Sephira moved their island outside this reality and back again as a joke the Psijics consorted no more with them, refusing to use Magicka and instead inventing their own methods which they called the Old Way, thereby insulting the Sephira and resulting in rather bad relations. Certain creative Sephira set themselves up as Gods or Daedra to gain mortal worshippers which are a fountain of amusement.

The Sephira allow mortals and lesser Daedra to use Magicka 'just to see what they do with it' a rather smug Diago told me. Other things he told me as well, including a staged 'Daedric invasion' a Sephira called Neitz (our Dagon, apparently) had been planning for years. 'Don't worry, I'll send someone along to help save your world.' He grinned.

I was feeling quite faint then. The revelation that many aspects of the world are actually pranks being pulled by bored divinities is quite something. Bowing courteously, the Sephira vanished in cyan flames that gave off no heat.

His mental projections showed me so much. But I have paid I price for this knowledge, too.

I can't shut him out.


End file.
